an instrumental affliction
by the hikikomori life
Summary: Haruhi is jealous. This contains the SOS-dan re-imagined as Evangelion pilots.


**an instrumental affliction**  
_based on GAINAX's neon genesis evangelion_  
beta-read by melissa - thanks!

-

i.

The first time you met Koizumi was years ago, when he was a little quieter, a little shorter. Shorter than you were, at the time, but much to your chagrin he's since grown to be nearly half a head taller than you.

You'd spent twenty minutes waiting, restlessly, at the base of the escalator which serves as the gateway into Central Dogma. A dusty, straw-colored light filters down from above, which you know to be the persistent glow that illuminates the interior of the cavernous GeoFront. Movement at the corner of your eye draws your attention, and you spot a lone figure at the top of the stairs, his features gradually coming into focus as he descends towards you. You knew a little bit about Koizumi, more than you'd cared to; your briefing that morning had involved a stern talking-to and a dossier of needlessly detailed personal statistics ranging from the inane, like his height and weight, to the obsessive and mildly frightening, like a record of his daily caloric intake, a record which spans years. Someone had obviously been keeping a very close eye on this Koizumi Itsuki. (It almost makes you wonder what he's done to merit the attention.)

Reaching the bottom of the escalator, he looks up at you, giving you a little wave. It doesn't occur to you to reciprocate - instead you swing a hand up, rather stiffly, to introduce yourself. As he takes it he smiles in what he probably thinks is a friendly, disarming manner, but in your opinion makes him look distinctly untrustworthy - so much so that you find yourself slightly unnerved.

He releases your hand, and without any preamble or preliminaries, immediately asks,

"May I call you Kyon?"

Slightly taken aback, you start to say, "How did you -"

"A little bird told me," he cuts in, with a sly look.

"Oh," you say, unconvinced. "Really?"

"Yes," says Koizumi cheerfully. "So may I?"

"I'd prefer if you didn't -"

"But if you didn't want me to, you would've told me that at the start, wouldn't you?"

"That's how you see it?" Disbelievingly you stare at him, and then, not wanting to bother trying to reason that one out, you give your head an impatient shake. "No, I should say that you've got a weird brand of logic."

He doesn't answer; just smiles, arms crossed, with one finger touched to the side of his jaw, as though he knows something you don't. Looking at his enigmatic smile, you can't help but get this feeling that you've just met someone who's going to be a really troublesome guy.

-

Months pass in Tokyo-3's endless summer; you and the others are all deployed in turn. All of you except Koizumi, who seems to pass the time by loitering around headquarters, involving himself in the day-to-day operations of the place, or else simply making a nuisance of himself.

Once in every so often you all gather round at Haruhi's place for a hotpot dinner; at those times you can almost forget the nature of your continued association. It's like having real friends. Sometimes Haruhi can't make it, and when she can't, Nagato doesn't bother, so it's just the two of you, you and Koizumi, eating anemic microwaved popcorn by the handful while chain-watching movies from the pre-Impact era, or else having it out on the battered old Playstation you scrounged up from somewhere years back.

Of course, you know that you can never really get away; can never really escape your duty, as a pilot. And every once in a while, there comes a reminder of that so wrenching, so _visceral_, that you wonder how you fooled yourself into forgetting in the first place.

On that occasion you're the last to know; the news only reaches you long after the fact. When Koizumi comes to deliver it, face taut with worry, you drop everything - every last thing - and follow him jerkily down through HQ's labyrinthine passages to the medical bay.

You sink into a chair, hands shaking, by Nagato's bedside, staring uncomprehendingly down at her prone form, her head heavily bandaged, one arm wrapped in a sling. You feel as though you would give anything to trade places with her; for it to be you lying unconscious on a sterile hospital bed under sterile white lights, instead. It isn't the first time one of you has gotten hurt, and it won't be the last, but the thought can hardly give you any comfort.

She seems almost to be peacefully asleep; but for the drip attached to one arm and the plaster cast on the other, you could probably have pretended, to ease the cold weight which has settled in the pit of your stomach. For several silent hours, you watch over her, with only a pale Koizumi seated at the opposite side of the bed for company. Haruhi stops by every other hour to check on Nagato's progress; averse to waiting or inaction, she snappishly excused herself after half an hour to go vent her frustration elsewhere. You can hardly blame her; you feel as though you could destroy the Angel that did this to Nagato with your bare hands, rend it limb from limb or else disintegrate its AT-field with hatred alone.

It's late the next morning when Nagato finally wakes. With your help and Koizumi's, she manages to sit up in bed, to feed herself from a plastic breakfast tray that Koizumi delivers. Upon noticing your concerned gaze, she says only one thing, and quietly - "I'm fine."

You don't ask _how can you say that _or _why didn't you request backup_. Instead you put her hand over her smaller one, and stay that way, until she drifts into sleep again. Sometimes you can't believe how small she is, how frail her body, how they still continue to deploy her without a thought for her safety or her well-being. After a while a quiet voice shakes you from your reverie; you realize that it must have been trying to attract your attention for some time.

"Kyon."

"Mmm?" you say, and find your voice somewhat hoarse from lack of use.

Koizumi, standing nearby, considers you briefly, and then sighs. He has brought you a mug of tea, which you accept wordlessly. His hands now free, he steps closer, gingerly placing one upon your shoulder to give it a light squeeze, and it's then you realize that you're wound so tight it's almost painful. You take a sip of oolong, letting its warmth flood through your tired body, breathing life into your numb extremities.

"You... must be worried." He pauses, and then chuckles, seemingly amused by his own ability to state the obvious. You notice his hand still rests on your shoulder, and without knowing why, bump your head against it lightly, as though allowing yourself to rest there.

"We all are," he continues, softer this time. You blink, finding that for some reason your eyes are stinging - _probably exhaustion_, you think, and close them, feeling the brush of Koizumi's sleeve against your temple. Together, you keep watch at the sleeping and wounded Nagato's bedside, and Koizumi's hand, still lingering on your shoulder, brings you a comfort beyond words.

-

What's interesting is that Koizumi Itsuki was originally drafted as a replacement pilot for the Second Child. You know this firstly because you'd glanced over Koizumi's dossier before he arrived, but more recently because Haruhi herself found out and has thrown one temper tantrum after another in an apparent attempt to make everyone's life as unpleasant as possible. You do admit that she has every cause to be upset, but somehow you have a feeling that that can't be the _only _reason that she resents him.

She arrived at headquarters not long after you did, and since then the two of you have always been, if not _friends_, then at least something to that effect. As close to friends as you can get, given the circumstances. Because before everything else - before any tentative friendship, before the two of you had even met - your supervisor had spoken to you very seriously to impress upon you the critical importance of keeping Suzumiya-san happy. Why, exactly? That was confidential; information you weren't privy to. After all it wasn't necessary for you to know _why_; just that you _should_.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

"I don't need a _replacement_!" rages Haruhi, who's storming around the room, systematically dismantling everything she can get her hands on. (You're glad that she didn't decide to pay you a visit, instead calling you out to her place for the express purpose of listening to her rave.) Prudently, you keep your head down; it wouldn't do to make accidental eye contact, as you've heard that people like Haruhi and also wild animals can be provoked by that sort of thing.

"I don't need _replacing_! What am I, a battery? A light-bulb?? Who does he think he is, telling me I can take it easy now that he's here?!" She stops to take a big gulp of air, and then spits, "The NERVE of him!"

It seems best to just not say anything, so, with a long-suffering air, you inspect the rim of your half-empty teacup. It's common knowledge by now, of course, why Koizumi came to this place, and you can understand the need for it, even if Haruhi can't. Because despite anything she might say, the fact remains that her synchronization ratio has dropped to dangerous levels, which puts her and everyone around her in danger. On top of that, even if he never gets thrown into battle, you feel that you - all of you - could do with a back-up, or even just the comforting notion that one exists. In the meantime, Haruhi is still going strong:

"Him and his _stupid face_ and his _stupid smile_ - always with that stupid smile! Let me tell you this, Kyon, and listen carefully: he will _never_ be good enough to replace me, no matter how much he wants to -"

"He's not all bad," you interject, absently, before you can stop yourself, and immediately find yourself wishing you could hit 'undo'. As though unable to believe what she's hearing, Haruhi pivots slowly towards you, fixing you with a look to kill.

"_What_ did you say?" she asks, in a slow, dangerous voice.

It seems best for you to not answer, but it's too late, the damage's been done and anyway, her question must have been rhetorical, because she immediately wheels around, picking up where she left off, only this time her abusive tirade is centered on you.

"First Nagato, now you - I don't _believe_ this! You - you two-faced snake! You've both known me at least three times as long as you've known him -"

"I didn't -" you begin, even though it's patently obvious that you're fighting a losing battle.

"Shut UP!" she screeches. "I don't care anymore, you can choose him if you like! Just get out of my face, the sight of you you makes me SICK!"

So you find yourself unceremoniously ejected from Haruhi's apartment, which is now locked, bolted, and dark inside - perhaps Haruhi, exhausted from the business of aggravating you, has decided to go to sleep, despite the fact that it's in the middle of the afternoon. While standing by yourself in the empty corridor you ponder why Haruhi has to make everything a choice between her and Koizumi.

You contemplate, fleetingly, adopting a conciliatory manner and asking Haruhi to let you back in, but eventually decide against it. If she wants you to "pick" Koizumi so desperately you'll be happy to oblige, and so afterwards you beat his ass in Street Fighter over dinner, and then talk late into the night, at last falling asleep stretched out on the couch in your living room while Koizumi dozes off in an armchair.

Most unusually, the next morning, he makes breakfast. You sit together at the table, eating your _tamagoyaki_ and talking; and what surprises you, even more than the comfortable domesticity of it all, is realizing how happy you are.

-

Strange as it may be, out of the three of them, Nagato is the one you're the most comfortable around. Most people find her expressionlessness off-putting, but not you. You don't worry about how she feels about you - you know that if she didn't want you there she wouldn't have you around, and so somehow you can relax when you're with her.

Nagato, designated the First Child, was there before any of you - the first to walk the deserted hallways of HQ, the first to pilot an Eva, the first to live alone, in one of those horrible little apartments. Even though she's lived there the longest, her room still looks exactly as it did on the day that she moved in, not a chair out of place. Haruhi, being Haruhi, has furtively suggested that Nagato is actually a robot, but you disagree; you think that Nagato has simply managed the nigh-unthinkable feat of removing everything and anything unnecessary from her life.

Over tea with her, you find yourself - quite unintentionally, mind you - straying away from comfortable niceties and into dangerous conversational territory.

"She yelled at me," you inform Nagato mildly, as though talking about nothing more important than the weather.

"At me as well," says Nagato, in her usual monotone. You're not sure, but you _think_ you see a quirk of the brow which might suggest that the memory of this incident irks her.

"Yeah, well, that's Haruhi," you sigh. And then, almost as an afterthought, you add, "She accused me of taking sides. Can you believe that?"

"Did you?"

"No," you say, sharply. You can hardly imagine doing something so colossally stupid. And yet...

Nagato, still and thoughtful, simply regards you for a while, her face inscrutable as always. You squirm a little under her steady gaze.

"I wonder," she says, delicately, setting her teacup down on the table, "if Asahina-san would agree with you."

Startled, you throw her a piercing look. A while back, for reasons best left unsaid, you all formed an unspoken pact to refrain from ever mentioning Asahina-san. However, Nagato seems quite serious - in fact, it doesn't sound as if she's asking a question at all, but rather waiting for you to come to a conclusion that she already knows. So, after giving her another suspicious glance, you deign to think back, painful as it is, trying to remember Asahina-san's radiant, heart-shaped face, the way she smiled _just so_-

- but at the same time, clear as day, you can't help but see Nagato watching you, expressionless, and then you remember that Asahina-san will never smile again -

"No," you say, rather sullenly. "I bet she'd tell me to apologize. In fact," you say, as a thought suddenly strikes you, "in fact - I bet you've already done it, haven't you?"

"Suzumiya-san's happiness -"

"- is vital to the continued success of this operation, yes, I know," you snap, before she can get into her stride; you've heard that particular speech so much from your supervisors that you could probably recite it back to them. "All _right_ already." With the air of someone who knows that they're saying something that they shouldn't, you give her a sideways look. "You _do_ know you're pandering to a madwoman, right?"

Nagato, being Nagato, doesn't grace this with an answer, and anyway you hadn't expected her to. You wonder to yourself why it is that, in the end, Haruhi always wins.

-

In a characteristic move, after brushing off your apology with brusque indifference, Haruhi then drags you off to look at something else, trampling your protests like so much dirt underfoot.

_And all is right with the world_, you think, only half-listening as she prattles on, dropping in the occasional snipe about Koizumi, and then wonder why you feel as though a vice is tightening around your heart.

-

ii.

Sometimes, at the end of another long day, you find yourself in Koizumi's apartment, seated awkwardly at the couch while he rummages about in the kitchen for drinks. The first time you saw his home you were reminded strongly of Nagato's: an obsessively clean, drab room which didn't seem at all lived in, a couple of old bookshelves lining the sparse walls. Since then it's changed precious little, but enough for you to recognize sort of an imprint of Koizumi's everyday life; like a half-buttoned shirt draped over a chair back, or the slightly wrinkled newspaper on his coffee table with the crossword done in ink. Much to your surprise, when he returns it's not with a tea-set, but with an ice-cold six-pack in his hands.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have something like this lying around," you say, cracking a can open. "What happened to tea and snacks?"

"I thought," he says, with a small, self-conscious smile, "that tonight called for something a little more... celebratory."

"Cheers," you say, agreeably, tossing your can back. For a while the two of you drink in an amicable silence, which gives you time to think about how you always seem to end up here. Just that tonight it seemed like the right thing to do, considering the occasion.

"I can't believe how long it's been," you say, after a few contemplative swigs. "You're finally going to suit up." Absently, you swill the dregs of your beer around in the bottom of its can.

"I know," says Koizumi, with a laugh. "It's about time, I was starting to feel terribly extraneous." He pauses, giving you a knowing sideways look. "The least I could do is risk my life like you do."

You snort. Clearly his extended inactivity hasn't removed his tendency to be a pretentious bastard. "It's only a training exercise. And who says 'extraneous', anyway?"

He makes a vague gesture with the hand that isn't holding a can of beer, as though swatting at an invisible fly. "I only meant that I feel... redundant."

"Don't be so dramatic." For some reason, you pause, remembering Haruhi's lip curled with disdain; Nagato's small hand under yours, and a warm, comforting weight on your shoulder. "You're not," you add, with sudden conviction.

At first Koizumi seems quite taken aback, but his surprise quickly gives way to pleasure, and he smiles - a secret little smile that you don't think you've ever seen before.

"Is that so?" he says, wryly. "Well, thank you for the vote of confidence."

You fumble for a good retort, but it's terribly difficult; you feel strange, warm all over, and maybe it's the beer, but you've never been a lightweight. To cover the awkward moment you reach for another can, and then another, until Koizumi has to retrieve another six-pack, which you also finish. Several cans later the world has gone delightfully fuzzy round the edges, so you can hardly protest when Koizumi, after shooting you a cautious glance, slides over on the couch closer to you. He stops then, as though gauging your reaction, but your face betrays none of the fluttering in your stomach. After a few tense moments he reaches over, splaying a hand over your chest, and then drawing you in, so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder. The alcohol has made you pleasantly malleable, so you make no protest as he nervously buries his nose in your hair, his breath tickling your ear. His movements are quick and furtive, as though he's doing something forbidden, or breaking a taboo. You don't care; you think that perhaps, if you try hard enough, you can make this moment last forever.

It's a stupid, impossible thought, of course. When you reach for Koizumi's waist to tug him closer he seems to falter, and you notice the apprehension in his voice when he speaks.

"Kyon - we shouldn't." (You think this is a bit rich, seeing as he was the one who made the first move.) "Suzumiya-san -" but you're not having any of that, of course.

"Why -" you interrupt, reaching up to cup his face.

"are you -" you begin to lean forward, pressing him onto the couch with your body, until he's lying on his back and you're lying on top, supporting your upper body so as to keep your full weight off him.

"talking about her -" you put your face close to his, close enough for your noses to bump, for you to smell the alcohol on his breath. He shivers, then, his usual composure having deserted him.

"at a time like this?"

Naturally, neither of you do much talking, after that. You stay that way, hovering over his body, until the condensation on the now-warm beer cans has melted into puddles on the coffee table; breathing in his presence, feeling as though your heart might burst; kissing, occasionally, an awkward meeting of lips and teeth and tongues that betrays a desire for more, always more; wanting desperately to pull him in, curl your fingers in his shirt and reach for skin, to be closer than anyone will ever know.

-

Much later, you find yourself lying on a creaky spare mattress, on the strip of floor next to Koizumi's bed. Bands of flickering light from the corridor outside peek through the cracks in the blinds to fall across your face. Lying on top of the bed is, of course, Koizumi, tangled in a mess of sheets. A combination of the late hour and your high blood alcohol content persuaded you to stay the night - at least, that's what you tell yourself. (The part of you less given to self-delusion, on the other hand, can freely admit that getting to be near Koizumi, himself, might have been a factor in your decision.)

"Has Suzumiya-san always been like this?" His voice, floating over the edge of the bed to you, is soft and drowsy, but still he labours to stay awake and engage you, as though trying to prolong this night by any means possible.

"... No," you answer, quietly, and then, after taking a deep calming breath, "No. Haruhi - she's changed. She wasn't always like this, but after -"

_After Asahina-san died_, you almost say, but don't. Koizumi makes a noise deep in his throat, a sleepy, thoughtful hum. You wonder how much of this he's hearing; how much of it he'll remember in the morning. His right hand dangles, limp, over the edge of the bed; after a moment's hesitation, you reach up and take it, intertwining your fingers in an affectionate gesture. You'd expected him to stiffen or pull away, but for once he's too sleepy to protest.

"Do you have any family?" Koizumi's voice is becoming fainter and fainter still, as he fights sleep. You look up at the ceiling, wordlessly; you'd always known it was just a matter of time before someone asked, and yet you'd hoped that no one ever would.

"Yeah," you reply, eventually. "My mum and dad..." You know that you ought to have stopped there, but against your better judgment, you keep talking. It's strangely cathartic - you feel as though you're purging a poison that's been inside you for a long, long time. "And I had a little sister."

"Had?" says Koizumi, quieter now, thinking, perhaps, that he shouldn't have asked. "Do you mean that she passed away?"

You close your eyes. It sickens you, but for the briefest of moments, you almost wish you could say 'yes'.

"No," you say, now muffling your words into your pillow. "It happened just before I was sent here. One day, she just... disappeared, completely. She left for school and never came home. I never saw her again, after that, but... nobody seemed to think it was strange, they didn't - they didn't even seem to notice. Sometimes they even acted as though... it had never happened, like she'd never even... been." You realize you're rambling, now, making little sense or maybe none at all, but Koizumi doesn't laugh or ask questions. He doesn't say anything for so long that you think he might have fallen asleep, but then -

"I'm sorry." He gives your hand a light, nearly imperceptible squeeze, and you know that he means it.

"It's fine," you mumble, feeling that strange warmth return. The fact that Koizumi knows, and cares, doesn't make you _feel better_, exactly; you're not sure that anything really could, but you do feel a little less... alone.

"Mmm."

His voice is so soft now as to be almost inaudible, but you can hear the whisper of his steady breathing against his comforter. It occurs to you, suddenly, that Koizumi hasn't told you anything about his family, or himself; that you've been answering questions all night without asking any of your own. But when you look up, intending to call his name, you see his pale face resting on the edge of the bed, facing you, his eyes already tightly shut. You start to think, _maybe tomorrow -_... but before you know it, you're fast asleep.

-

You wake early the next morning, before sunrise. After a hurried breakfast, you wait in the corridor while Koizumi self-consciously looks the door of his apartment behind you. A combination of nerves and excitement seems to have swept over Koizumi, and he is, for once, unusually quiet. You, on the other hand, say nothing; you're not sure that you even know words that could express how it felt to wake up with Koizumi's hand still in yours; or when he leaned over you to kiss the back of your neck as he cleared the table of your plates, murmuring, "Be careful today," with an ironic little smile.

You arrive at Central Dogma just as the first rays of sunlight begin to show their faces over Tokyo-3's distant skyline. In a tense silence you dress, giving your plug suit a quick once-over before separating from Koizumi, heading towards where your Eva waits.

If there's one thing you can't quite get used to, it has to be sitting in the cockpit of your Eva as it fills with LCL, a pale yellow-tinted liquid which smells faintly of blood. You've experienced it countless times before but you can't help the momentary panic which seizes you as it fills your lungs, nearly giving you over to the very primal terror of suffocation before you remember you can breathe. The launch is routine - you watch layers of armored bulkheads fly past your eyes and before you know it you're on the outside, blinking in the early morning light. A street away from you the ground splits open, forming a jagged metal wound which ejects Koizumi's Eva from the bowels of the earth.

You dismount from the launchpad and turn towards him, taking a few cautious steps to see that he's made it out all right. Then you turn, the power cable fastened to your spine trailing behind you like a snake, intending to return to your assigned task, but find yourself still facing Koizumi, taking more steps towards him, faster and faster until your Eva has broken into a run - you seize the unresponsive controls, but to no avail -

"HQ," you start to say, in a strained voice, "I'm not in full control of -"

"Synchronization ratio falling," a cool, disembodied electronic voice informs you. "Eighty percent... Seventy..."

"Kyon!" calls another voice, sounding just as terrified as you feel. The other Eva, unaware of your rapid approach, barely has enough time to throw up an arm to deflect you, sending you skidding into the nearest building, with a resounding crash and shattering of windows. Your own Eva peels itself out of the warped concrete, seizes its head in its hand and suddenly you realize it's screaming, a horrible scream that seems to go on forever, and you're trapped inside it, you're trapped inside as it starts to claw at its own head - you're thrown around violently, inside the cockpit, and realize with a sinking feeling that the Eva must be trying to reach you, in the Entry Plug, trying to rip you out -

And then, without warning, all movement stops, and everything goes black and silent as the grave.

Bewildered, you continue to tug at the controls for a while, but soon stop as you realize that nothing's responding. It's terribly quiet, and you're terribly alone. You're just beginning to worry, wondering if maybe this is what death is, just _nothing_ forever, when you sense, rather than hear, that someone else is nearby, in the darkness with you. It is a strangely familiar presence. Then you hear footsteps, although you can't see the ground anywhere nearby, and, despite your misgivings, reach out a hand. Something invisible brushes against it.

"Kyon-kun," a voice says, and all of a sudden, you _know_. "Hisashiburi."

"Aa," you say, to no one, and promptly black out.

-

iii.

Open your eyes onto a wide, white ceiling, checkered with pristine fluorescent lights whose glare make you squint. The strong smell of antiseptic assaults your senses.

You lie there for a while, your brain heavy and foggy, trying to remember where you are, or who you are, and what, exactly, happened. You sift through fragmented memories, but all you can recall with any certainty is the strong impression of violence. Absently, you run your fingertips under the hem of your shirt, and are almost surprised to find that they brush against layers of thick gauze which bind your torso. It doesn't hurt, much - or perhaps you've simply forgotten that it should, and so it doesn't.

After some minutes - or perhaps an hour, you're not sure; you haven't much sense of time in this place - you attempt to sit up. Immediately a sharp pain shoots down your side; you double over, slightly, to cough, and only straighten up with difficulty when you realize that someone is watching you.

"Nagato," you say, more confused than anything else.

She gives you a curt nod, and then sits back down, on a chair that you've only just noticed by your bedside. You realize that she must have risen from her seat to help you, and feel a little touched. Before you can open your mouth to thank her, however, she interrupts you.

"Speak quietly."

You follow her gaze to the side of the room, and with a start recognize Haruhi's slumbering form bundled into a sleeping bag in the corner.

"How long have I -"

"Three days."

_Three days_! The notion of it floors you. Three whole days lost to darkness. And how close you must have come to never waking up. Unaware of your internal turmoil, Nagato continues,

"You have sustained several broken ribs and a mild concussion, but are otherwise healthy."

You scratch the side of your head, trying to digest all of that. For starters, you wouldn't call broken ribs and a mild concussion 'healthy', but then again you've no idea how much worse it could be.

"What... what happened to me?"

At that, Nagato gives you a very strange look.

"You do not remember?"

You wave a hand - gingerly, as it makes your side smart. Nagato, having poured you a glass of water from the jug on the table, presses it into your hand.

"I remember... bits. Not a lot, I guess, it's all sort of a blur...."

There's a weighty pause. You start to drink, slowly, and then, as though she's rehearsed it, Nagato begins mechanically to recite a very official-sounding record of events.

"The launch for the training exercise took place at 0700 hours. At approximately 0708, Unit 01 began to exhibit abnormal behavior and underwent emergency ejection of Entry Plug. It is most likely you sustained your injuries at this time." _'Abnormal'_ is one way of putting it, you think to yourself wryly. After a pause, you prompt her to continue.

"And then?"

She gives you a penetrating look, as though trying to judge whether you should be allowed to know more.

"... Some time after this, you were extracted from the wreckage of your Entry Plug by Koizumi Itsuki, who has sustained second-degree burns to his hands and arms due to attempting to prise open the hatch of the Entry Plug without protection as well as -"

At this, you choke on your water; your coughing brings round the sleeping Haruhi, who unfurls herself with a yawn, and then, upon seeing you awake, she bounds to her feet, immediately trying to hijack the conversation.

"Kyon!" she declares, punching the air quite unnecessarily. "Do you have _any idea_ how _worried_ we've been -"

You don't answer until your windpipe stops seizing up, and when you do, it probably isn't what she would've wanted to hear. But Haruhi's interruption could hardly make you forget what Nagato just told you - in fact, you feel almost ashamed for not asking until now.

"Itsuki," you say, and find that your voice has suddenly gone hoarse. Then, with more composure, "Koizumi. Did he - is he all right?"

Nagato and Haruhi don't exactly exchange looks; rather, Nagato glances at Haruhi, who continues to stare at you, her face suddenly wooden.

"He's fine," she says, shortly. "Kyon -"

"Where is he?"

"No." To your surprise, and Haruhi's, it is Nagato who says this. "You need rest. You will be informed when you are fit to move around without assistance."

"That's right, Kyon! What are you thinking? You can hardly go wandering around the medical bay by yourself in this state -"

You settle back into your pillows wearily, resigned to an afternoon of naggy and dull chatter. When Haruhi has her back turned, though, you send Nagato a beseeching glance, as if she could do anything to help you - and find, to your surprise, that she is looking at you with something a lot like pity.

-

It's nearly a week later that you finally see Koizumi.

Nagato, bless her soul, had somehow convinced Haruhi to leave you alone for a few hours to sleep. By some happy coincidence, Koizumi chooses this wonderfully Haruhi-free period to visit. He must have been standing in the open doorway for some time - you hadn't noticed, as you'd been lying on your back staring listlessly at the ceiling - before calling out to you. At his voice you rapidly sit up, but double over almost immediately as your side smarts in protest, your eyes watering.

"Took you long enough," you manage to say. "Did you get lost?"

He chuckles, but it's rather subdued. As he moves into the light, you notice that, apart from the look of concern on his taut face, he appears pale and wan, as though he hasn't been eating enough. You smile, somewhat uncertainly, as he takes one of the seats at your bedside without speaking.

"I can't believe you'd do something so incredibly stupid," you chide, reaching for one of his heavily bandaged hands. "It's not like you."

He doesn't resist, not exactly, but he does flinch a little as your hand makes contact with his, so you hurriedly withdraw.

"Sorry - does it still hurt?"

He doesn't answer. You give you a questioning look; his eyes flit rapidly to and away from you, as though afraid to look at you directly. And then he smiles, an awful, brittle smile that, far from reaching his eyes, only highlights their hollow hopelessness.

"What -" you start to say.

"Suzumiya-san -" he begins, at the same time, speaking rapidly. You stare at each other.

And then, finally, it begins to dawn on you what this, all this, has been about. Haruhi's wooden stare. Nagato, using the memory of Asahina-san against you, to convince you to apologize. And Koizumi's shoulders, shaking terribly, as you press him into the couch... an idiot, you've been an idiot all along. You realize you must have an ugly expression on your face, because Koizumi now looks at you with concern, he tries to say something reassuring, something that sounds like, "Really, Kyon, it's - it's all for the best -"

"KYON!" yells Haruhi, bursting into the room with Nagato in tow. "We're back! Did you have a good nap, because ..."

Eyes falling on Koizumi, she trails off into silence, but you can both sense that it will be a short-lived one. With a fixed smile Koizumi gets to his feet, and says,

"... Actually, I was just on my way out."

Neither of them glances at the other as he takes his leave from the room. It's hard to tell, but you think that Nagato might have a sober expression as she looks at you. As soon as Koizumi's gone, Haruhi launches into a lengthy diatribe that might be about Koizumi, or might be about no one at all. You bunch the fabric of the bedsheets in your hands, trying your best to appear attentive - but if you're absolutely honest with yourself, you find that you don't care at all.

-

It isn't often that you get to spend time alone now, Haruhi's made sure of that. You only see Koizumi on the off chance that the two of you manage to sneak out of headquarters without detection. At these times you retreat to a grassy knoll you both know which overlooks the city - it's a quiet place, far from the prying eyes of _Suzumiya-san_. Even so, you seat yourself slightly apart from him; it wouldn't do to take unnecessary risks. At dusk you watch the last traces of light sweep across the city, and hear the endless chorus of the cicadas. Neither of you say much - it's enough that you can just... _be_.

"Ne, Kyon."

"Mmm?"

Rather tentatively, after a moment's hesitation, he reaches over; brushes his fingertips over your curled knuckles. Nowadays, that's the closet you come to each other, and as always, it sends a shiver down your spine, and makes the hairs on your arm stand on end.

"Why do you..." he stops, as though searching for the appropriate words, and then simply says, "why do you stay?"

You make a soft, derisive noise.

"Because we have to. Because - the world needs us." You're neither arrogant nor fool enough to say 'me'.

You notice, suddenly, that he's watching you sideways, with a hint of a smile playing around his lips, and quickly look away, studying the grand swathe of grass beneath your back which falls away from you, swooping down to the very borders of Tokyo-3.

"Surely that's not how you really feel?"

"You never let up, do you?" The exasperation in your voice is more affectionate than you would care to admit.

"Never," he says, now smiling full-on.

Obediently, you meditate on it for a while. It's strange to think that you never really question what you're doing there; it feels like this is the first time you're considering it.

"Because... because I've got nowhere else to go." (You don't mean that you _belong_ here; in fact you're beginning to doubt if you belong anywhere at all.) "Because this is something that I can do."

Koizumi regards you then, for a time, one finger pressed to the side of his jaw, just as it had been on the day you had met. You send him a questioning glance, which he meets with a serious expression; his lips part, as if carrying the intention to speak, but in the next moment he seems to think better of it, and instead flashes you a sudden, secretive smile.

"Oh yeah," he says, simply. "Me too."

And somehow, without knowing exactly why, you feel that he's not being entirely honest.

-

_bring out the someone  
you need to see_

__

for jealousy

we all know one day you'll  
leave  
behind

your everything

_and feel the spring  
come_


End file.
